


Sit Down

by Lovefushsia



Series: Sex Solves Everything [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom John, Bottoming from the Top, Caring John, Caring Sherlock, Chair Sex, Established Johnlock, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, First Time Topping, M/M, POV John Watson, Sherlock's Chair, Sherlock's dressing gown, They love each other so much, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovefushsia/pseuds/Lovefushsia
Summary: John thinks Sherlock's agitation can be resolved if he just sits down. John joins him of course.





	

**Author's Note:**

> That bit where Sherlock pumps his hips at John from his chair... Yeah that one.

John sat in his chair, watching as Sherlock paced the room, blue silk dressing gown flowing around him impressively as he ranted about the case, about Lestrade and how ineffectual he was being. But most of the words had begun to meld into one another. John was fascinated with his friend and not the case.

Finally, Sherlock stopped still and glared. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

John didn’t flinch at being caught out. “I love it when you’re so impassioned.”

“John, come on, this is serious,” Sherlock told him, frowning, hands on narrow hips.

“I am serious,” John assured him. “Tell me, what do you feel when you’re like this? What happens in here?” John placed his palm flat against his chest. Trying to get inside Sherlock’s head was becoming more and more interesting, and John was only slightly worried that he was a little obsessed.

“What do you mean? There’s nothing going on inside my chest, it’s all up here,” Sherlock said tapping a long finger to his temple. “And it’s so much of a jumble right now,” he added crossly, “I can’t think.”

He continued his pacing and John looked on, but he was frowning himself now. He felt endlessly conflicted that by starting this whole thing between them he had caused Sherlock even more mental turmoil than he already had. Sherlock practically bounced off the desk at his next whirlwind pass through the room and John felt sure he wasn’t going to be solving anything this way.

“Sherlock, will you just... sit down, have a cup of tea or something. You need some sort of distraction.”

“Oh really, and what would you suggest?” Sherlock huffed, throwing himself into his chair opposite John.

John watched as he bounced there, bare feet dancing, knee bobbing, hips writhing in a way that changed John’s thoughts instantly to a very obvious solution. When he could drag his eyes away from his friend’s crotch, he sat forward a little and reached down to untie his laces so he could toe out of his shoes. “I have an idea,” he murmured, a slow smile creeping over his lips. It was something he had tried to bring up with Sherlock, but they were really much better at doing - making it up as they went along - rather than discussing first. And so far everything they had tried had worked out just fine. More than fine. Fucking amazingly, actually. His smile grew as his thoughts rolled on and suddenly he realised Sherlock was staring at him again. Somehow, John had got his attention.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock asked carefully.

John looked down to where he was already starting on his shirt buttons. His cardigan lay across the arm of his chair and he’d managed to tuck his socks into his shoes without even realising he was doing it. He chuckled at himself and then looked back into Sherlock’s eyes to see if he was thinking along the same lines yet. “I was a bit warm,” he tried, smile widening when Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

He was still bouncing as John stood up, leaving the rest of his clothes for now, and took the couple of steps across to Sherlock’s chair. He looked down into wide eyes, darkened by the dim room, pupils expanded and lashes occasionally dashing down and then up as he met John’s gaze. John put a hand to the arm of his chair and then straddled Sherlock’s lap, planting a knee on either side of his thighs.

Now he could feel for himself what was happening in Sherlock’s chest and he placed a gentle hand over his friend’s heart and took in a sharp breath at the feel of his increased heart rate. John’s own pulse was throbbing, as it always did when they were this close to each other.

He circled his hips a little, brushing his groin against Sherlock’s and wondering just how he could bring this up without blatant language which might be detrimental to Sherlock’s sudden calmness.

Sherlock’s hand came up to touch John’s cheek and John leaned into it gratefully, eyes closing at the peace he felt.

“Well, this is certainly a distraction,” Sherlock murmured.

“Hmm,” John agreed, softly. “A welcome one?”

“Of course, always John.” His other hand clasped around John’s hip and urged him forward and down to meet his hips. John lowered himself further into Sherlock’s lap and sure enough they appeared to be equally turned on.

He leaned in until he could nudge their noses together and opened his eyes so that his whole vision was filled with just this man, this crazy, beautiful man who had decided that John was the one who could distract him.

John didn’t know how he ever got anything done - he wasn't able to regulate his emotions like Sherlock. He was just permanently infatuated.

He pushed his hips forward again and Sherlock tilted his head slightly, allowing John to press their lips together. The soft kiss was a chaste reminder that this was still a new thing. It would always be the most important thing in John’s world, what they had between them. He knew it was a novelty that Sherlock sometimes could do without. And yet he marvelled, was honoured really, at the way Sherlock had allowed John to fit into his heavily compartmentalised brain at all, emotionally or otherwise.

His hand went up to Sherlock’s shoulder, sliding up his neck and into his curls, and he brushed his lips over Sherlock’s again, pressing more light kisses across his smooth cheek to his ear. “I was thinking about something... new, that we could try,” John whispered slowly. Sherlock shivered against him, gripped harder at his hip and hugged his other hand around John’s back, bringing their bodies closer still.

“What is it?” Sherlock asked, and he turned his face so that their lips met again. John smiled against his mouth before kissing him properly, lips parting as he flicked out his tongue to lick across Sherlock’s lower lip, sucking it between his lips and making them both groan with pleasure.

“I want you,” he gasped against Sherlock’s lips. “I want you inside me.”

He felt Sherlock stiffen under him, hands clasped harder into his hips and he drew back from the kiss to look at John.

“You do?” Sherlock asked.

And thank God, he had been able to speak because John didn’t know if he could get any more words out. He nodded, feeling his cheeks heat, but not really caring, because this was Sherlock, this was what they did now, and he really needed this.

“Yeah, yeah,” he managed.

“How would we go about doing that, John?”

John smiled and relaxed, letting his hand slide down Sherlock’s chest, grasping his tight white shirt just above the waistband and gently tugging it up. Sherlock’s taut stomach muscles jumped a little as John’s palm brushed over them before slipping inside his trousers. “Well, I was thinking of starting with something like this,” he whispered, keeping things calm, quiet, just moving his hand slowly and trying to avoid putting too much pressure on his own crotch.

He dipped his fingers into Sherlock’s underwear and felt the tip of his hardened cock. Sherlock kissed his forehead and unfastened his own trousers while John looked down to their hands. His fingers slipped around Sherlock’s erection and he gave a light squeeze and Sherlock jerked a little under him, thigh muscles clenching.

John looked up and smiled and Sherlock kissed him. John’s hand slid up to grip his hair as he made the kiss more serious. When he pulled back, Sherlock was gasping, eyes closed, face raised up a little as John continued to work his fist back and forth.

“John,” he let out on a breath.

John didn’t want to stop kissing - those lips drew him in each time and held him captive, it didn’t matter if they were kissing or just talking, or even ranting, John couldn’t get enough of them.

Finally, he released Sherlock’s cock and pushed himself off the chair for the barest length of time possible to strip off his shirt and trousers, Sherlock watching and pushing his trousers down a little further. John didn’t wait for him to remove anything fully though, preferring the dishevelled look as he climbed back on, feeling the fabric of Sherlock’s trousers brush against his thighs as he got settled. Sherlock’s hands found their way to his hips instantly, pulling him back into place on his lap, rubbing their hard cocks together and kissing John again.

The only sound was their breathing coming harsh in between kisses. John’s fingers enclosed both their cocks and they both held a breath at the same time which made him smile and stop kissing for another moment.

“I can never understand this feeling,” Sherlock murmured.

John nodded. “I know,” John breathed out and bumped their noses together, tilting his head to delve into another kiss while he worked at their erections. Sherlock’s hands were suddenly very obviously massaging their way under John’s arse and John moaned into his mouth as he felt those long fingers begin to tease his cheeks apart. “Fuck,” he whispered as he drew back a little to look into Sherlock’s face again.

“Just as you do to me?” Sherlock asked, sneaking a finger towards John’s hole as John rose up a little way on his knees.

“Oh, God, yes, just like that...” he said, one hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, the other losing its grip slightly as his attention was diverted.

Sherlock circled his finger and tickled at John’s hole, squeezing and stroking at his cheeks with his other hand, all the while raising his own hips in a rhythm that seemed spontaneous.

“Mmmm, damn, I’m sorry,” John said, as he suddenly remembered. “Lube.” He leaned in and gave Sherlock a longing kiss before scooting back and away from him, leaving his lover forlorn, erection bobbing free as his hands flopped onto the arms of his chair. “Give me one moment,” John told him and raced through the flat to the bathroom, feeling a chill against his naked body. He flung open the cabinet and grabbed the lube before rushing back and into Sherlock’s waiting lap.

“Ah, yes, quite,” Sherlock said, as John handed him the tube. Sherlock popped the cap and upended the tube, squeezing some onto his own fingers and into John’s palm. After a quick warming rub of his hands, while Sherlock smoothed the silvery fluid between his fingers and thumb, they got back to it. John slid his now slippery palm over their lengths and jumped a little at the cool press of Sherlock’s fingers to his arse. His head went back, eyes closing as he relaxed and felt the tip of a finger slip inside. Sherlock’s touch was gentle, easing around the rim to open and relax him. John hadn’t actually thought he could be distracted from pleasuring his lover, he was always so sure to make Sherlock writhe beneath him that his own pleasure came a definite and deliberate second. But his rhythm was definitely stuttering as Sherlock went a little deeper, easing his slippery finger inside John’s hole.

John grew more vocal with each movement, not able to think beyond the gentle stretch, the clenching around Sherlock’s finger - Sherlock was inside him, another finger joining the first now and easing their way past tight muscles to at least two knuckles deep.  

John lifted up, trying to keep a steady, slow rhythm and maintain the same with his hand. Finally, he released their cocks and grasped Sherlock’s cheeks with both hands, bringing him into a messy kiss, pressing his tongue deep into Sherlock’s mouth, urging his hips down again, pushing Sherlock’s fingers deeper into his arse. He was already feeling the build up of tension before his orgasm and he needed more before he came.

“I’m ready,” he said, and he couldn’t have sounded more desperate. He met Sherlock's eyes, and Sherlock nodded, breathing heavily as he carefully removed his fingers, reaching again for John’s lips.

John took hold of Sherlock’s cock again and lined himself up, one hand clasped onto a firm shoulder while Sherlock watched. He slid his arse over Sherlock’s erection a couple of times before easing on and letting the tip open him up a little way. They both released a deep sigh and John’s hand moved to Sherlock’s cheek so he could look into his eyes as he sank further down.

“John,” Sherlock sighed out, lids heavy, teeth biting into his bottom lip.

John heaved in a breath and let gravity take over as he took in more of Sherlock’s cock. He groaned with every inch, Sherlock stretching him, filling him up so completely. He had known pleasure, but never like this - never from another person in the way he always felt when he was with Sherlock.

“So tight, John, I can’t... can’t keep still,” Sherlock said, so close to him, breaths puffing against John’s kiss-damp lips.

“You can move, Sherlock, please,” John ground out. And his lover didn’t wait, his hips bounced once, twice, edging his cock even deeper inside John’s arse and John cried out and clutched to his biceps to hold on as Sherlock began to thrust. And John’s mind was blank, nothing there at all other than the feel of his lover against him, inside him, all around him.

At times, when their positions were reversed, John had found himself overwhelmed with the intensity that Sherlock experienced - the self-acceptance, giving himself to John as he never had with anyone before - it made every time the most beautiful thing for John. And now, to have this, to be sharing yet another new experience together, he was almost sure he couldn’t take much more of it.

The chair was also a bit of a worry, it was creaking, shuddering under their combined weight, but John had no intention of stopping. He moved a hand to the arm rest, gripping the leather with a sweat damp palm, trying to get more leverage and to make Sherlock moan again.

But as Sherlock shifted, trying to get to John’s lips again, the angle changed and suddenly John couldn’t catch his breath, the pleasure coursed through him from his groin to his chest as Sherlock’s hard cock brushed his prostate on every stroke.

He could only hold on and gasp out unintelligible sounds and try to join in with Sherlock’s kisses. Firm hands held to his hips as Sherlock helped him to keep moving steadily, faster and faster until John was lifting off almost completely, crying out each time he took Sherlock’s cock back into him. When he finally let go, his orgasm shuddered through him, shaking his whole body - thighs quivering, he collapsed forward into Sherlock’s arms, cum shooting up between their bodies as Sherlock held him tightly to his chest. “Fuck, Sherlock, oh, fuck me, that was ridiculous.” His words sounded rushed and jumbled to his own ears.

A gentle thrust reminded him of what was usually his first priority, and he shook himself, looked more clearly into Sherlock’s face and kissed him, easing off his cock with only slight difficulty.

He seated himself shakily back in Sherlock’s lap and took hold of his sleek cock. Sherlock’s hand covered his in an instant and stopped him.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured.

John’s eyes widened. “Are you joking?” he breathed. “I’m barely conscious after that, but this is the least I can do.”

Sherlock smirked at him, lips pressed together, chest still heaving. “Well, at least let me help,” he said as he began to move their hands together up his shaft.

“How did it feel?” John whispered after a moment, fingers curling a little tighter around the cock that had just been inside him.

“Beautiful, John, your face is so expressive.” He sucked in a breath as John gripped him more firmly. “I think... I think I felt the same as you.”

“I’ve never felt anything to match that. Really,” John added, when Sherlock frowned questioningly. “Can we do it again?”

“Now?” Sherlock asked.

“No, now stop talking, I’m trying to wank you off.” He winked and kissed Sherlock as together they fisted his erection. John ran his free hand through the mess on Sherlock’s stomach and nudged Sherlock’s hand away to replace it with the cum-lube.

Sherlock’s eyes closed and his head tilted back, exposing his neck to John’s lips. He hummed against the pale, delicate skin and kissed him until he felt his friend’s throbbing pulse under his tongue.

His hand sped up until he had Sherlock gasping and writhing, pulling him closer, until finally he cried out loud, cum spurting in thick strands across John’s knuckles and over his thigh. John sighed in shared pleasure, hand slowing, fingers releasing their grip. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck, pushing him back into the chair and leaning their foreheads together as they both closed their eyes.

“John, John,” Sherlock murmured. “It’s almost uncanny how you do this to me.”

John chuckled, squirming a little in Sherlock’s lap, skin sticking on warm skin. He didn’t want to move though, wanted to keep them distracted for a little while longer. “You don’t seem to mind,” he said.

Sherlock nudged at him, trying to get to his lips again and John happily kissed him back. “Of course I don’t mind. You were right, I did need a change of activity to keep me grounded. I feel better.”

“Good. Any time you need me, I’m here, Sherlock. Not just for sex, I mean,” he added, cheeks flushing as he got too honest for his own comfort.

“Anything _you_ need,” Sherlock countered. “You only have to ask. Ok?”

John nodded. What he needed right now, aside from a towel, was more kissing. Sherlock seemed happy to comply as John slotted their mouths together again, never able to get enough of the press of his lover’s lips against his.

After a while, John became aware he was shivering from the cool air in the flat. Sherlock pushed against him. “Let me up a moment,” Sherlock said softly.

John scooted off him, his nakedness becoming instantly less appealing as he stood there in the living room. “I’ll just... uh-” he started, turning to look for his discarded clothes. But Sherlock quickly shucked off his dressing gown and wrapped it with a flourish around John’s shoulders. They both smiled as their eyes met, and John slipped his arms into the warm sleeves. “Thank you,” he said.

Sherlock’s hands went around John’s waist and he tugged gently backwards until he was sitting with John in his lap again on his chair. John lay his head on Sherlock’s shoulder and felt Sherlock press a kiss to his hair. He was always ready to enjoy these quiet moments together.


End file.
